


got my veins all tangled close

by lipstick (infrequency)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Bassist Yoon Jeonghan, Explicit Sexual Content, Hotel Sex, M/M, Photographer Jeon Wonwoo, Pining, Touring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29395107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infrequency/pseuds/lipstick
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple four date, two week mini-tour in Japan.It’s not that simple, though. It never is with Jeonghan.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 32





	got my veins all tangled close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm an addict for dramatics / i confuse the two for love.
> 
> * * *
> 
> accidentally cursed myself with another chaptered fic on my quest to write every permutation of my bias line.  
> please read the endnotes for content warnings/additional context.
> 
> title is from "makedamnsure" by taking back sunday. suggested listening for this chapter is all of louder now (2006).  
> thank you to [rick](http://www.ao3.org/users/lovker) for reading this over for me.

📸

Wonwoo gets informed about social lite’s Japan tour dates the same way he always does. A text message from Seungkwan at bum fuck o’clock, with such a tight turnaround he can’t weasel his way out of it with excuses.

Seungkwan’s penchant for ambush is unlike any other, though a month heads up is hardly that.

“Thanks for the heads up, Kwan-ah,” Wonwoo grumbles, climbing onto the bus during his afternoon commute. He’d been bracing himself for Seungkwan’s phone call all day, and it comes in just after 6 p.m.

The voice on the line is chipper and bright to Wonwoo's weary and worn-down. “What if I weren’t available and I needed someone to cover me?”

“Ah, hyung,” Seungkwan titters into the line, “You’re free, and you’re going. Aren’t you lucky I already submitted your visa and already bought your plane ticket?”

Seungkwan had thought so far ahead that he had already _faxed_ in Wonwoo’s request off time.

Sure enough, when he checks his work email, the approval for PTO is buried in his inbox.

Huh.

Seungkwan is kind of scary when he wants to be.

Two weeks in Japan. One week in Tokyo and another in Osaka, two venues in each city. Plenty of time between shows to see the cities, but it also means a lot of editing in cafes and crouching over his laptop in green rooms.

Seungkwan claims that they have more space in the budget for better lodging, but after the festival this past summer? Wonwoo shudders thinking about the RV. He isn't holding his breath.

The weight of what it means for the band to venture to another country finally doesn't feel real. Wonwoo has only been around social lite for about a year and a half now, but their trajectory has been the hard-earned fruits of labor, with Seungkwan, Siyeon, and Jihoon shouldering most of the workload. That’s not to say the other members don’t pull their weight, but he recognizes the talent and drive that the band’s manager, frontperson, and producer exhibit.

Wonwoo's just the person fortunate enough to document their rise.

social lite has come a long way from playing basement venues and clubs in Hongdae and getting screwed over big time by bar owners who would pay them in beer. Now, they all have steady income as music makers, with Jihoon putting in time working for various entertainment companies while also producing their tracks.

One of their singles got featured on the Bandcamp Daily, among other placements, with Wonwoo’s photos embedded in the coverage.

It's about playing the long game now and they all know it. These first couple of overseas shows are proof enough.

A couple of members, Siyeon and Jeonghan, still bartend. Wonwoo’s always been a bit of a homebody, but he gets it. The sudden change in pace would've been a significant lifestyle shift for them. Being a photographer was always a hobby for him.

Until it wasn't.

Getting introduced to Jeonghan at a punk club in Mangwon over a year ago had changed his trajectory in more ways than one.

The month passes in a blink of an eye. Seungkwan sends a taxi to his apartment – “I’m not going to _miss my flight–_ ” “It’s a _courtesy._ Let me be _nice_. Can’t I be nice?” – and he’s surprised when the cab he split with Dahyun pulls up to a hotel that is _definitely_ not a hostel but a beautiful boutique hotel in Shinjuku.

“Seungkwan said he scored a touring grant,” Dahyun says, a little awed at the digs.

There's a cafe and multiple restaurants inside the space, as well as a full-service bar. It feels like a good omen.

“Maybe the label got us a discounted rate?”

Wonwoo doesn't pretend even to know anything about music management, so he nods numbly, letting Dahyun lead him to the front desk for check-in. His Japanese is dismal, but the receptionist takes pity and switches to Korean to make the process easier for both of them. Wonwoo bows deeply in thanks, embarrassed.

“Your room is on the fourth floor, son-nim,” the receptionist says, gesturing toward the elevator doors. He takes the keycard folder from him and thanks him again before skittering towards the elevator.

The awe quickly deflates when he realizes what Seungkwan meant when he had texted that all of them were going to make sacrifices on tour to make up for some of the wins. Wonwoo’s sacrifice: his roommate for the first week.

“Wonwoo-ssi!” Jeonghan calls as a greeting over some movie that's playing from the TV. The sound of his voice makes Wonwoo's insides turn into knots, tamping down the memories. He can be professional. He doesn't have to stay in the room the whole week.

Wonwoo slips his shoes off at the door, nudging them over to the side with his foot before sliding the hotel slippers on. The receptionist had mentioned pajamas in the top dresser drawer, and even after a short flight, he’d still like to be out of the clothes he was wearing on the plane.

“Do you have to have the TV up so loud?” Wonwoo calls back with a little more grit than intended, setting his camera bag on one of the wall pegs. When he turns around, Jeonghan is smirking at him. Since they last spoke, Jeonghan has dyed his hair a ridiculous cherry-red to fit in with the album’s concept.

Even with the stupid color, he looks striking. Jeonghan always looks striking.

Wonwoo kind of misses his blond hair.

“ _Hi hyung, how was your flight, Jeonghan hyung?_ ” Jeonghan says in a high-pitched voice before going on to answer his rhetorical question. “Oh, it was fine, Wonungie, absolutely great despite the fact I worked last night and got on a plane 3 hours later.”

Jeonghan approaches him with the same expression Wonwoo's mother wears when he visits home. Appraising. Disgustingly, the glint of approval in Jeonghan’s eyes stokes the flames he thought had long burnt out.

“Aigoo,” he coos, reaching up to pinch Wonwoo’s face. His traitorous cheeks go rosy under Jeonghan's fingers. “Did you get _more buff_ since I last saw you?”

Even the shapeless hoodie he’d thrown on for the flight can’t hide what’s underneath. Wonwoo shrinks away from Jeonghan, diverting from the conversation.

“Why are you even awake if you're running on no sleep, hyung?” he asks. Jeonghan blinks, like Wonwoo caring about him is something so out of the ordinary.

“And miss saying hello to my favorite dongsaeng?” Jeonghan answers around a yawn. “Not a chance.”

📸

First dinners in tour cities are family dinners, no exceptions.

“It's important to us,” Siyeon had said to him that first night in Seoul, when the band was still looking for someone to photograph their warehouse show. “Going out together on the first night, especially in new cities, helps us keep the peace.”

Every member of the band is around Wonwoo’s age, so he gets it. If they don’t acknowledge that they all like each other at least once in each city, their friendships will crumble like a sandcastle. He’s seen it in action. It’s probably why Seungkwan has roomed him with Jeonghan, like some sort of compulsory get along time will force them to deal with their problems with each other.

It’s not that simple, though. It never is with Jeonghan.

Tonight, he's in an udon shop with just Jeonghan, Siyeon, and Seungkwan. Jeonghan gives him the dignity of sitting at a different table with Siyeon, holding a spot until the drummer, Wooseok, arrives.

Two tours with the band, and Wonwoo still needs to refer to the band members as their instruments in their heads. It helps him keep their names straight after months of being away. Siyeon vocalist. Wooseok, drums. Dahyun, guitar and keys, still at the hotel, calling her girlfriend. The merch person, whose name still escapes him. (He just never sees her.) Jeonghan bass. Wonwoo photographer.

Seungkwan, nuisance.

He sidles up next to Wonwoo with a smug look on his face. Wonwoo side-eyes him and takes a prim sip of his water, leaning back in his chair.

“You know, hyung, my mother says that it’s not healthy for couples to go to bed angry,” Seungkwan’s voice is low, but Wonwoo still looks over to make sure Jeonghan doesn’t hear. He’s too busy laughing at something Wooseok said to pay their table any mind.

“I wish I hadn’t told you what happened in Busan,” Wonwoo says, equally hushed. He’s definitely not watching Jeonghan from the corner of his eye, watching him roll up his sleeves and push his hair out of his eyes as he laughs. Wonwoo's stomach feels funny.

“You didn’t tell me,” Seungkwan corrects him, pulling him back to the topic at hand. “I just guessed and you didn’t correct me.”

That much is true. Seungkwan had only guessed that they'd hooked up, and Wonwoo's shit poker face gave him away. He doesn’t know if it went south so much as Jeonghan just pretends it never happened, but either way, Jeonghan hasn't acknowledged Wonwoo with anything more than friendly intentions. He’s not sure which is worse.

“So, rooming us together was your solution?” Wonwoo snipes, bereft of patience, treating Seungkwan to the full weight of his stare. Seungkwan raises his hands in defense.

“Hey, I just want you two to talk!” Seungkwan rationalizes, but he eases off, leaning over to take a big bite of his gobō tempura.

“You’ve been professional with each other,” he says around a mouth full of burdock. “But whatever happened is clearly hurting both of you.”

Wonwoo frowns, glancing over at Jeonghan, who’s staring at him this time. He startles for a moment at the sudden eye contact, giving Wonwoo a thin smile before dropping his gaze.

“Hurting both of us,” Wonwoo says, rolling that knowledge in his palm. “Sure.”

The burden feels unbalanced.

The ride back to the hotel is silent. Seungkwan says goodnight as Wonwoo and Jeonghan get off the elevator on their floor, and both of them agree to meet him for breakfast in the morning.

When the doors close, Jeonghan looks at Wonwoo like he wants to say something, but he closes his mouth and leads the way back to the room.

Silence falls over the two of them again as they move around each other to unwind for bed. Jeonghan offers to let Wonwoo take the bathroom first, which he accepts with a tight nod.

When he emerges, Jeonghan is standing in front of the door, looking small and insecure in the oversized hotel bathrobe.

The thing about Jeonghan that still catches Wonwoo off-guard is how different he is when the world is watching him and when it isn’t. When Wonwoo first met him in Mangwon, he was all flirty eyes and bravado. In public, he carries that demeanor like armor.

But the Jeonghan in front of Wonwoo now is nervous, running his fingers through his hair, shuffling his feet.

“Are you, you know. Are you still–?” Jeonghan begins, but he trails off. Wonwoo doesn’t need him to finish to know how the question ends.

Wonwoo squeezes his folded dirty clothes in closer to his body. Jeonghan steps in closer and Wonwoo takes steps back.

_I’m not mad at you. I just hate that you made me feel like a pity fuck._

_I was mad at you, but not anymore._

Jeonghan starts to speak again, but Wonwoo breezes past him, trying to slow his breathing. He half-expects Jeonghan to follow behind him or to scold.

Instead, behind the wall that separates the two of them, the bathroom door clicks shut.

📸

There are too many photographers in the photo pit at HIGH. Wonwoo is practically crawling over other people just to get a shot, and he can’t imagine that Seungkwan approved all of them.

The house photographer at the venue is a handsome redhead named Nakamoto Yuta, who speaks Korean well enough that Wonwoo feels comfortable letting him stick close. He’s friendly. Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way Yuta gives him little sidelong glances that makes him feel wanted.

It’s been a while since he’s gotten any, so Wonwoo entertains the thought. Maybe he’ll pursue it later.

The excess bodies filter from the pit after the third song, and Yuta comes over to nudge him.

“Feels like we can breathe in here now,” he laughs, ducking down next to Wonwoo in-between songs.

Wonwoo agrees with a sharp laugh, traveling over to the left side to get a few good crowd shots. They part ways two songs later with a high five, but not before Yuta offers to buy him a drink after the show.

“Holding you to that, Yuta-ssi!” Wonwoo calls after him.

At the midpoint of the set, Wonwoo heads up to side stage. He takes a seat on the floor, checking his emails, and takes a couple of photos on his phone for social media.

When the song ends, Jeonghan walks off to pass his bass off to a stage tech before joining Wonwoo on the ground. Jeonghan is close enough that Wonwoo's knees almost touch his, until he folds himself in half, arms hugging his knees.

social lite’s midpoint set acoustic songs are wholly Siyeon’s, laced with some heartache that makes Wonwoo’s heart clench for her. When she introduces her next song, Jeonghan gasps a little, slapping Wonwoo’s arm.

“That’s the new one,” he hisses, shushing Wonwoo’s protests. Instead of watching Siyeon, Wonwoo turns and looks at Jeonghan, watching his face as Jeonghan watches Siyeon.

There’s something about watching someone’s face when they’re not looking at you. If Jeonghan notices Wonwoo staring, he doesn’t tell him to stop. The muscles in Jeonghan’s face tighten as the words wash over him. Wonwoo takes it in, too, and wonders if their take away from the song is the same.

Wonwoo turns his focus back to Siyeon, letting “ _Maybe the emptiness is just a lesson in canvases_ ” stick to his skin like an affirmation. To his left, he can see Jeonghan dabbing at his eyes. When he stands, Wonwoo notices that his eyeliner has smudged onto the back of his hand.

Wonwoo takes a picture of it on his phone. Jeonghan adjusts his bass strap and strides back on stage.

After load out, Wonwoo agrees to join the band at the bar for a few drinks. Yuta is nowhere to be found, which is a little disappointing, but Seungkwan shoves a beer in his hand.

“First gig of the week down!” he says, clinking their bottles together. Wonwoo raises his Asahi, letting out a dry laugh.

“Sure, but my work isn’t done for the day,” he grumbles, but it’s good-natured. Dahyun is usually useful for assisting in an early escape. He doesn't drink, really, but Wonwoo feels good tonight. Enough that he finds himself with a second, then third beer in his hand.

It's when Wooseok yells, “Hey, where's Jeonghan hyung?” that he even notices that Jeonghan hasn't been with them the whole time. And reaches for another drink.

📸

It takes four tries for Wonwoo to finally get into the hotel room. When he stumbles into the room, Jeonghan is standing behind the door with tired eyes.

“Thought I was gonna have to fight someone off,” he laughs. Wonwoo knows it’s a joke, but his exhausted, alcohol-soaked brain doesn’t process it that way.

“God forbid you should have to lift a finger,” he spits. Wonwoo bends down to untie his shoes, but Jeonghan grabs his wrist before he can fully make it.

“Hey. I know you’re drunk and upset at me for whatever reason–”

“Oh, you know exactly why I’m upset–”

An irritated growl rips out of Jeonghan as he ducks down to untie Wonwoo’s shoes.

“Step out,” he clips out as he stands, giving Wonwoo room to move. Wonwoo swiftly obeys. Jeonghan’s apprehensive gaze is piercing, making him feel alien. When he removes his shoes, Jeonghan turns on his heel to push off to the bathroom, leaving Wonwoo standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“And no, I don’t know why you’re upset,” Jeonghan calls back out to him. The squeal of the shower turning on sets his teeth on edge. Wonwoo clumsily steps into the hotel slippers laid out in front of him, knocking his shoulder into the door jamb as he passes through.

“You do,” Wonwoo insists, sounding every bit as childish as he feels. Jeonghan is perched on top of the bathroom counter with his legs crossed, still watching him owlishly.

“You do know,” Wonwoo repeats.

He steps into Jeonghan’s space, shuddering when his legs fall open for him to stand between.

“I’m not your boyfriend, Wonwoo,” Jeonghan says softly, but he tugs Wonwoo’s shirt over his head anyway. He pats Wonwoo's hair down, fixing his glasses so they sit straight. The air in the bathroom starts to feel thick and humid from the hot water.

Wonwoo's heart is pounding.

The room starts to fill up with steam.

Jeonghan continues with, “Anyway, I don’t get why you’re sulking,” unbuckling his belt. His hands fall away for Wonwoo to do the rest, pointedly not looking at Wonwoo at all as he strips bare in front of him. It makes Wonwoo feel about three inches tall, so he goes for the low blow.

“Why so shy now, hyung?” Wonwoo taunts into his face. He pushes his body against the counter, bare skin against Jeonghan’s clothed thighs. Jeonghan glares back, keeping his head up and Wonwoo applies pressure.

“You had no problem with my naked body when you were begging me to–”

“ _Jeon Wonwoo_ , do not finish that sentence.”

“Why not?”

When Jeonghan looks back at him, his eyes are soft and pleading. “Don’t wanna talk about this when you’re drunk.”

Jeonghan pushes him to the side or tries to, but Wonwoo plants his feet in place.

“Hyung,” Wonwoo starts, licking at his lips. Jeonghan’s eyes dart down to watch his tongue, then back up to his eyes like a cliche. Wonwoo takes advantage and leans in closer. “Hyung, get in the shower with me.”

Jeonghan closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “I don’t wanna–“

“You’re not,” Wonwoo says. Up close, he can see every laugh line in Jeonghan’s skin, the hyperpigmentation that he hides under makeup, the texture of his cheeks, the beauty mark just to the left of his nose. Worry heavy in his eyes. Always so worried.

“God, I wouldn’t even,” Wonwoo starts shakily, not knowing where the rest of that sentence goes. “I would never,” he tries again, but Jeonghan seems to understand because the bite of teeth on Wonwoo's bottom lip effectively silences him from speaking any further.

Getting Jeonghan undressed is a task that he’s not quite sober enough for, but Jeonghan is skilled at this, buttons coming loose to make way for skin that Wonwoo touches eagerly.

“Fucking hell, Wonwoo,” Jeonghan whines into his mouth. He slides down from the counter, pulling their bodies together. Sometime between, Wonwoo's glasses get set aside.

“You taste like you drank the entire bottom shelf,” he continues, but doesn't pull away.

Jeonghan steps into the shower stall first, guiding Wonwoo under the warm stream of water before crushing their mouths back together. Jeonghan’s dick is half-hard against Wonwoo’s thigh, and Wonwoo wants the taste and the weight of it in his mouth so fucking badly.

Jeonghan seems to have other plans, however, pushing him back against the glass panel.

“You’re so fucking mean to me, baby,” he coos, hand wrapping around his flaccid cock. Jeonghan dips in, sucking at him until he’s hard and heavy on his tongue. He stares up at Wonwoo with doe eyes before giving him a mischievous grin. Everything looks watercolor from where he stands.

Wonwoo moans, tilting his head away from the shower spray. His hands sink into Jeonghan’s hair, guiding him gently to where Wonwoo needs him most.

Jeonghan laughs, delighted. “Let hyung show you how much he's missed you.”

His tongue is better than Wonwoo remembered it being, even in his alcohol-fueled haze. He comes embarrassingly fast.

Jeonghan swallows him down easily before bouncing up to kiss him. He can taste the salty tang of himself on Jeonghan’s tongue, fucking lazily into his mouth, but it's gone again in a flash.

The bathroom door swings open and shut, leaving a now sober Wonwoo to shiver in a cold shower alone.

📸

Wonwoo dreams about a bonfire. Except he’s standing in the middle of it, his body catching flame. And Jeonghan is sitting in front of him with a log in his hands, stoking the flames.

“I missed you, Wonungie,” Jeonghan simpers, his voice slicing. He douses Wonwoo with lighter fluid, and Wonwoo tries to scream, but no sound comes out. “You’ve always been so good at keeping others warm.”

The more he begs Jeonghan to save him, the more logs he throws onto the pyre.

When Wonwoo wakes up the next morning, Jeonghan is nowhere to be found.

He doesn’t remember putting his phone on the charger, but it flashes on the bedside table, showing that he has nine unread texts on KaTalk. It’s just after 2 p.m., meaning he’s now slept over half of the day away. Fuck.

from: jeonghan  
there’s a croissant for you on the table  
and i made coffee  
will be bringing dinner back at 6

from: seungkwan 🍊  
not 2 b annoying but  
can u post a pic from last night to social  
thaaaaanks  
?? hyung.  
nvm jeonghan hyung said u came back REAL drunk  
lmao drink water next time bro

to: seungkwan 🍊  
[Instagram link]  
🙄  
putting my hangover coffee on ur room tab

to: jeonghan  
thank u  
(DRAFT) i think we need to talk about last night

Wonwoo doesn’t send the second text, knowing that Jeonghan won’t address anything when backed into a corner. Sighing, he fumbles his way out of bed to retrieve the croissant and his laptop. He has several hours of editing to play catch up with.

The hours pass quickly, and Jeonghan returns with a brown paper sack in his arms, his bass slung around his shoulders.

“Why did you bring your instrument with you?” Wonwoo asks, not looking up from his laptop. He’s found a good stopping point now that he's down to the last handful of images from the night before. Before Wonwoo can save his place, Jeonghan pushes the top closed over his fingers.

“Hyung–“

“Come eat," Jeonghan says, sounding worn out. He doesn't answer the question, but taps the chair across from him with his foot. "That’s not a request, Wonwoo-yah.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes but concedes to Jeonghan’s urging and closes the laptop. He gets up to join Jeonghan at the tiny table.

There's not enough space for everything on the surface. Frustrated, Jeonghan angrily drops the bag on the floor.

“You know there’s a dining area that we can use on the second floor, right?” Wonwoo asks, popping open a can of cola. Jeonghan _tsk_ s and sets a greasy pastry bag in front of him.

“Eat the korokke before you put any more caffeine in your body,” he gripes, swatting Wonwoo's hand away from the can.

Wonwoo sulks but takes a bite of his food. He makes a show of chewing with his mouth open. Jeonghan makes a disgusted noise, shoving at his shoulder.

He half-expects Jeonghan to mention something about the night before, but he doesn’t. He tells Wonwoo about practice, meeting with the Japanese promoter, and a story about Dahyun mixing up taiyaki and takoyaki at a street vendor.

“It was an honest mistake,” Jeonghan giggles, shaking his head. “But Dahyunie was not expecting to bite into fried squid, poor baby.”

The way Jeonghan says _baby_ makes Wonwoo shiver, staring down at his hands. Jeonghan sets his chopsticks down flat onto a napkin, staring at Wonwoo.

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo could answer that question a lot of ways, but he goes with the easy route.

“Feel like shit.”

📸

The second venue is more of a dive bar than a club, and much smaller than the last. There is no photo pit, so Wonwoo stays side stage for most of the show to avoid crowd surfers. social lite is on a mixed billing tonight, so the audience is rowdier than they expected. They've seen crowd surfers at their shows before but never seen a mosh pit quite like the one that breaks out just two songs in. Siyeon used to front a punk band, so it makes her happy to see it. 

For Wonwoo, it just brings up a lot of repressed memories about losing his glasses at shows and finding them flattened under someone’s Docs. He takes a handful of crowd shots from the back of the venue and the side of the stage, but it’s very much not his thing. Not anymore, at least.

There is no after-party this time around, much to Dahyun’s delight – Seungkwan, too, who prods at him with ”Get wasted on your own dime this time, hyung!” – so half of the band peaces out to go clubbing.

Unsurprisingly, Wonwoo opts to turn in for the night.

Surprisingly, so does Jeonghan.

They make it back to the hotel with only small talk breaking the silence between them. Wonwoo offers him the shower first, and Jeonghan obliges.

Both of them crawl into their separate beds and say goodnight, basking in the dark silence.

And then Jeonghan is crawling into bed with Wonwoo, and throwing the sheets back. Wonwoo's hands are on his hips, and Jeonghan’s mouth is on his and it's a race to get naked, so Jeonghan can stuff his fingers inside of Wonwoo and make him see stars.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Wonwoo asks between kisses. It's asked too late, when Jeonghan is already two wet fingers deep, mouth at his hip. Jeonghan silences him with a third finger, curling them until they’re pressed against the spot that makes his vision white out.

“S’just sex,” Jeonghan pants, but when he fucks into Wonwoo for the first time in months, it feels like coming home. 

Jeonghan claps a hand over Wonwoo’s mouth as he whines through the punishing pace set – “this is a nice hotel, Wonwoo-yah, you _need_ to be quiet. Don’t get us kicked out” – and Wonwoo comes twice with Jeonghan’s mouth at his throat. 

When it's over, Jeonghan drags a warm washrag over his skin in silence, drops a kiss to Wonwoo’s bare chest, and crawls back into his bed on the other side of the room.

📸

Wonwoo hangs out with the band members as they traverse through the city. Even in the freezing December cold, the excursion turns into an impromptu photo shoot, with Wooseok and Dahyun hard styling in front of as many things as they can. With some maneuvering, Wonwoo manages to get them posed with Godzilla’s head in the distance. The end result is Christmas card-worthy. 

They hit as many tourist spots as they possibly can before splitting off when the sun goes down. Wonwoo's never been much of a club person, and he typically does a lot of his editing at night.

Or, he did.

Jeonghan gives him about two hours of lead time before he slinks back into the hotel room, pushing Wonwoo onto his back to demand attention.

Wonwoo flips them over this time, taking Jeonghan by surprise by pinning his hands above his head.

“Think you’re in charge?” Jeonghan challenges. Wonwoo considers the scene. Jeonghan with his rosy cheeks, eyes bright and playful, Wonwoo’s hand playing at the waist of his jeans.

“This time, yeah.”

Wonwoo's mouth moves south, rucking the loose material of Jeonghan’s shirt up to give way for wet kisses toward his navel. The sounds that pour out of him are maddening, fodder for a later date.

“Missed this,” Jeonghan sighs, carding his fingers through Wonwoo's silky black hair, and the flicker in his chest burns like a supernova. Kissing his way back up Jeonghan’s sternum, Wonwoo catalogs every little gasp and moan, staking his claim on the skin. He knows better than anyone that Jeonghan can’t be owned, but he feels possessed by the thought.

“Missed you,” Wonwoo replies, kissing him before the honesty can scare the man in his arms away. Before he can tamp down the feelings again.

📸

Seungkwan is giving him a tight-lipped stare, iced Americano from the hotel cafe in one hand, cell phone in the other. Wonwoo has been bracing himself for this conversation ever since Seungkwan noticed the fading hickey on Wonwoo’s neck in the elevator, but it hasn’t come yet.

Breakfast is typically silent when it’s just himself and Seungkwan. The band members are spread out across Tokyo, visiting with friends or, like poor Wooseok, sleeping off a hangover after a night barhopping Ni-Chome. 

Finally, Seungkwan sets his phone down, still purse-lipped. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Wonwoo has no idea what they’re doing, actually. He shrugs. “You’re the one who roomed us together.”

The defense earns him an eye roll. “You know hyung’s going to go back to pretending you don’t exist the minute we leave this hotel.”

The words feel like pushing a serrated knife into a scabbed-over wound, but despite the stabbing pain, Wonwoo knows that Seungkwan is right.

📸

to: jeonghan  
hey  
can we talk tonight  
  


📸

Around 10 p.m., Jeonghan comes back to the hotel room looking miserable and smelling like cigarette smoke. Wonwoo walks to the door to greet him, but he’s struck by the sadness rolling off him in waves.

Before he can think to ask what’s wrong, Jeonghan’s mouth is on his, and Wonwoo’s shirt is on the floor with Jeonghan’s leather jacket. He shoves Wonwoo up against the wall, lips to his jugular, and Wonwoo's head tilts back on reflex with a broken moan. The only thing Wonwoo can hear is the sound of his pulse rushing in his ears and Jeonghan’s deranged little laugh as he undoes his pants, belt jangling as he slides a warm hand down inside.

“There you are,” Jeonghan says, smug as his fingers wrap around his erection. Wonwoo's hips move desperately and in time with Jeonghan’s strokes, stuttering in place when the hand disappears.

“Hyung–”

Jeonghan leans back enough so Wonwoo can shove his pants off, earning a laugh when he almost falls over in his haste. It's musical, a major chord. It's perfect. Jeonghan’s fingers caress the bare skin of his back, turning him around to kiss between his shoulder blades, neck, biting down on an earlobe.

Whatever was ailing him seems to have disappeared, not that Wonwoo is thinking about anything other than getting Jeonghan’s mouth on his cock, hands on his hips, fingers stretching him open.

Making it over to a bed takes fumbling, clothes coming off in layers. Jeonghan's fingers splay themselves across Wonwoo's chest and he sighs prettily, pushing him down.

“Wanted this all day,” is a balm to Wonwoo’s ego, and he must visibly perk up because Jeonghan laughs.

“Yeah, I thought about you today,” he continues, crawling up the bed with Wonwoo underneath him.

Jeonghan makes a fond noise, pinching at Wonwoo’s cheeks. His hair tickles Wonwoo’s face when he leans down to kiss, smiling against his lips.

“You’re so cute, Wonwoo-yah,” he mumbles, trailing a path down the side of his neck to bite over the fading red teeth mark on his shoulder.

 _He’s dangerous like this_ , Wonwoo thinks hazily, watching Jeonghan crawl back over his body in bed.

He doesn’t remember what he wanted to talk to Jeonghan about. Jeonghan doesn't give him a break to remember.

Jeonghan traces little lines onto Wonwoo’s body with his mouth, marking him on his collarbone, biting down on his chest, whining a little when Wonwoo’s abs are too taut for him to even try there. The slow drag against his already sensitive skin tickles, even more so as the air conditioning kicks on.

“Jeonghan hyung,” he whines, only to be shushed with a finger pressed to his lips. He continues his slow descent, interspersing it with kisses down Wonwoo’s chest and stomach. A hand wraps around his cock, mouth moving around the base, tongue flicking up the underside of Wonwoo’s shaft before his lips stretch out around him.

Wonwoo lets out a whine, back arching as Jeonghan sucks him in, little by little, fist still wrapped around the base. His mouth is excruciatingly warm and wet and good, and Wonwoo misses the sound of the lube bottle clicking open over his own heavy breathing.

Jeonghan pulls off, sweeping his tongue under the cockhead, staring up at Wonwoo with lidded eyes.

Wonwoo thinks he hears him say something like “love doing this to you,” but his body bears down on the first finger, only relaxing when Jeonghan’s mouth presses against the inside of his tensed thigh.

The possessive burning hunger in Jeonghan gives way for something else – when Jeonghan presses inside of him, his mouth meets Wonwoo’s not with the crushing heat of a lover but of something more.

Regretfully, Wonwoo doesn’t think he’ll be able to walk away from Jeonghan again without losing a piece of himself in the process.

📸

When Wonwoo wakes up the next morning, he’s unsurprised to find that he’s alone. Jeonghan had been uncharacteristically silent as they showered, unable to look Wonwoo in the eye. 

Checking his phone, he sees that it’s only 6 a.m. Getting up early on the last day in Tokyo is a welcome change in pace.

He digs through his backpack to retrieve his laptop to try to get in some last-minute editing, but three text messages from Seungkwan stop him in his tracks.

from: seungkwan 🍊  
jeonghan hyung just left for osaka  
like got a hotel for the night and everything  
did something happen???

📸

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> potential triggers: one party is drunk and receives a blowjob – they are sober enough to consent, but they are mentioned to not have it fully together enough to undress themselves or the other person. **to skip altogether: after “with steam” skip to “cold shower alone”**  
>  a nightmare sequence of someone burning alive, tl;dr symbolism but skippable – **to skip: after “cold shower alone”, skip to “Jeonghan is nowhere to be found.”**
> 
> idol cameos from dreamcatcher's siyeon, twice's dahyun, pentagon's wooseok, and NCT 127's yuta. siyeon's acoustic song is "appointments" by julien baker.  
>   
> updating sometime in march lol

**Author's Note:**

> [cc](http://curiouscat.qa/infrequenced) // [fic twt](http://twitter.com/infrequenced)


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